She wastes no time.

Her hands return with a renewed vigor: they're not fumbling anymore; they're swift and deliberate, certain in their movements. She yanks my zipper all the way down, and she's so consumed in her desire, she's so hungry, she forgets her own strength – and she rips the zipper clean off.

Her eyes widen a fraction. She utters a single, startlingly clear word. "Oops."

I can't help but laugh. "It's okay, love. I have plenty of pants."

And the zipper is abruptly forgotten.

She's pulling my pants off, and I stand up to make it easier for her.

I lift my left foot, and she jerks the fabric off and away.

I lift my right foot, and she does it again, tosses the pants aside.

I start bending my knees, arms outstretched, ready to climb over her, ready to quench her thirst and satisfy her hunger.

But this time, she stops me.

Her hands clutch my forearms.

She whispers, "Wait."

And I freeze.

I stay very still.

"Juliette?"

Her grip loosens, and her fingertips trace up the insides of my forearms, following the map of my veins. Her touch is so soft, it makes my skin curl. She's circling around my elbows, and now she's going up and past my biceps, traveling beyond my arms and coming across my back, across my shoulder blades. Her hands stop. And they cup my shoulders.

She looks at me. Swallows. Stands up on the bed.

I place my hands on either side of her face.

I start leaning in to kiss her, and her hands squeeze my shoulders.

"I want you," she says, whispering the words into the closing space between us. Then more frantically, "I want this."

And I seal my mouth over hers. I want her, too. I want her more than she could ever understand; I want her more and more all the time.

My hands slip away from her face, and trail down her sides, pausing at her hips.

Her underwear is still on. How did that happen?

I hook my fingers under the elastic waistband and pull, slowly.

Slowly.

And I bend further down as I pull. I sink onto my knees. I sit on my heels.

Her hands slide away from my shoulders and get caught in my hair.

I pause with my hands at her calves.

I lean in, and her fingers twist in my hair, pulling it painfully, but I don't mind.

And then it changes.

It changes as I feel a spurt of her energy course through me, zapping me, jolting me so suddenly, I can't make sense of it, I can't hold onto it. My hands clench into fists, my eyes fly open and my arms fly apart. I gasp.

I just ripped her underwear into two halves.

She stumbles backwards, blinking. "Wh-what just happened? Was that my—did I just—?"

I cough out a laugh, and stare down at my hands. I shake my head once, clearing the sensation of the head rush. And then I turn my attention back to her.

Because I'm still ready.

And she's still hungry.

She's still waiting.

I discard the fragments of her underwear, and I place my hands on her shoulders, guiding her back down, onto the bed.

And I pick up where I left off.

She gasps and bucks her hips. One of her hands is clutching at the sheets, the other is clawing at my scalp, and I still don't mind, I don't mind at all. There's a moan building in her throat, and I want it out. Her back is arching up and away from the mattress, and I want to scoop my arms around her, I want to lay myself out across her, I want to kiss her and feel her. I want our limbs tangled around each other.

But not yet.

I'll keep this going a little longer.

Her legs brace me in place, clamping hard against my sides, knees colliding with my ribs.

Her entire body shudders.

I think she's trying to say my name, but she can't seem to get past the A.

That's okay, Juliette.

You don't have to say anything.

I'm coming.

I pull away and crawl towards the top of the bed. I plant my elbows on the pillows, situated on either side of her face.

Her eyelids are fluttering, and her breathing is ragged, but the moment I'm here, her eyes open wide. She sucks in a tight breath.

And her legs hook around my waist.

I incline my head, and place a kiss against her throat, then another at her collarbone. My kisses trail up the side of her neck. Travel across her cheek. And find her mouth.

Her arms wrap around my back.

The right one is strung across my lower-back, hand clutching my side.

The left is holding my upper-back at a slight diagonal, hand clutching my shoulder.

She stops kissing me and tilts her head back, trying to catch her breath.

And I smile.

And I dip my head down.

And I press the side of my face against the crook of her neck.